Yesterday I got three phone calls from the same telemarketer. Two were within 5 minutes of each other, prompting me to wonder if they knew I was home and just not answering the phone. "so what?", you ask. Yeah, but the calls were from Pentagram Financial. (Actually it was from Pentagroup Financial, but my reading glasses won't be ready for two more weeks). After the third call, I assuming from the strange blue car parked across the street) I texted my husband.
"Did you mortgage our house to Satan?"
His reply,
"Myahhhh hahhhh hahhhh"
Great, I'm being stalked by Satan.
We got another call this morning at 8:30, Saturday morning. Waking us up, naturally. When I checked the call log, it was again from Pentagram Financial. Crap. "They called again. At 8:30 on Saturday morning so they knew we were home!" John, "Why don't you just answer the phone?" "WHAT?!? You don't answer the phone when Satan calls. Jesus Christ, where are you from?"
(And on another note, as I was typing this, my husband pulled a shirt out of the closet and asked if it had been washed. Me, still typing and answering in a very snarky voice "If it's hanging in the closet, it's bee..." At this point I looked up and realized it hadn't been washed. With my tail between my legs, "uh, no that hasn't been washed." In my defense, it was brand new. Who washes brand new clothes?)
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